Countdown
by FanWriterWV
Summary: For one doctor, the day of the apocalypse is a countdown to the inevitable.


Countdown

7:30 p.m. local time, somewhere near Detroit, Michigan

Doctor Amanda Wellington wrinkled her nose in frustration as she looked at the latest blood samples. It was a habit she'd developed after learning that a frown made her colleagues think she was angry at them when she wasn't. Actually, she _was _angry, but more at herself than at the contaminated cells as they were eaten alive and turned into…something else.

"Gary?" she called. "Do we have those DNA test results back from Langley yet?"

A heavyset, bearded man looked up at her from his computer. "Nope. I'm still having trouble trying to get through online. They must be really busy over there."

Amanda sighed. It figured. Ever since the first cases had been discovered in Iraq, their counterparts at the C.I.A. and F.B.I. had been tightlipped. Given how virulent this thing was turning out to be, she wasn't surprised.

Her cell phone rang. "Hello? Yes, Doctor, we're still waiting for the results…I know they have top priority…yes, I have the results from my own samples, but there's been no change. Conventional vaccines and treatments just aren't working…yes, sir, I'll let you know as soon as possible." Amanda switched off the phone. "Jerk off," she muttered.

Gary chuckled. "Welcome to the wonderful world of science by bureaucracy." He touched his forehead. "Phew. Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

"It's room temperature." Amanda looked at him with some concern. "Maybe you'd better go to the infirmary and get yourself checked out. I know the virus isn't supposed to be airborne, but at the rate it's mutating…"

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll be back in a few minutes. Think you'll survive without me?"

Amanda gave him a wan smile. "Neither unknown viruses, government weasels nor shall the dead of night keep me from my appointed boredom."

Gary laughed. "OK, Doc. See you later." He left the lab, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he went.

Amanda turned her attention back to the microscope. The cells had finished their self-destruction and were now quite lifeless-or so it seemed. It was like a cancer, she thought-a cancer that drove its victims insane even as it condemned them to a place between life and death.

Amanda had heard horror stories from other scientists who had been brought in to study the virus. The victims seemed to retain some of their basic brain functions, most notably hunger, especially a ravenous taste for raw flesh-particularly human flesh, as one scientist told her when a victim tried to tear his arm off.

Amanda and her close circle of colleagues had been brought to this top-secret facility in the heart of Jerry Falwell country as part of a nationwide network dedicated to studying and finding a vaccine for this mysterious, horrifying outbreak. So far the official cover story of a few isolated cases of insanity was holding, but if this thing began to spread…

She needed a break. Amanda took the samples out from underneath the microscope and put them into storage. She turned on the small TV that, aside from her cell phone and the computer, was the only connection she had right now with the outside world.

"…_Continuing coverage now of the situation in the greater Detroit area, where several new cases have been reported within the last few hours. Doctors treating the victims have confirmed that some of them appear to have been…partially eaten…by their attackers. Survivors of the attacks describe their assailants as having bright white pupils and being driven by a homicidal rage. We now have one of those survivors with us live from the scene." _The screen showed a frightened, middle-aged woman holding a bandage against her neck. _"He was like a wild animal. He...just came at me, snarling. I could tell he wanted to eat me."_

Amanda inwardly shuddered as she tried to change the channel, but most of them were filled with more breaking news reports that seemed to be coming in from all across the country. Yes, it was definitely spreading, and the government's cover story wouldn't hold much longer.

8.00 p.m.

Gary was overdue from the infirmary. Amanda had covered for him by finishing some of his reports and sending them to Langley, but now she was getting worried. It hadn't helped that the news reports were much more frequent now. _I'd better go check up on him, _she thought.

Amanda made her way down the maze of corridors that separated the various labs. They were oddly quiet for this time of night; normally they would be bustling with doctors and military personnel. She peered through one of the surrounding doors that had been left ajar. The lab inside was empty, which was odder still.

Amanda finally got to the infirmary, where she found Gary lying on a hospital bed. "Hey," she said. "Are you okay?"

Gary groaned. "I think I've come down with something," he said. "And it's not the flu. He looked at her. Amanda was shocked to see that his pupils were turning white. "You'd better get out of here while you can," he said. "A doctor was examining me, but she got called away. She said she'd be right back, but I'm not holding my breath."

"You stay here," Amanda said as she turned her back. "I'll go see if I can find someone; don't worry." She looked back over her shoulder. "Gary? Did you hear me? I said-"

But Gary wasn't there. When she turned back around, he was right in front of her, blocking her path. His eyes were almost completely white now, and there was no sign of reason left in them. He was breathing heavily as he growled at her.

"Gary…let me through. Gary!" Amanda cried out as he lunged at her. She managed to avoid his grasp and scrambled for something to defend herself with. She picked up a nearby beaker and threw it in his face. It shattered, momentarily blinding him with its fragments. _I'm sorry, Gary, _she thought as she ran out into the corridor. She could hear his screams of rage as she kept running.

Amanda turned a corner and saw a soldier standing over the body of one of the other doctors. "Thank God," she said. "You've got to help me. My friend is…" her words trailed off as he stood up and looked at her. There was blood coming from his mouth, and when Amanda looked at his eyes and then at the doctor's body she realized where it was from. The soldier's automatic rifle was lying on the floor. Amanda picked it up and tried to hold it steady as she pulled the trigger. A burst of fire came from it, striking the soldier in the chest, but he kept coming. Amanda fired again, this time hitting him in the face and then in the head. That was when he fell down and stopped moving.

Amanda heard a roar and saw Gary running towards her. She said a short prayer for him as she raised the rifle and fired at his head. He went down like a sack of potatoes on the floor.

Amanda's heart was racing as she took the soldier's service pistol, which had been the only other weapon he had. By now the corridor lights were flickering as Amanda looked for an elevator or stairway that would take her to the surface. Another scientist appeared from around a corner, his face contorted with rage and hunger. Amanda used the pistol to stop him. She knew there were others out there, but she also knew that she had to save her ammunition until she could get to the surface and find help…if help still existed.

9.00 p.m.

Amanda had found an empty lab and barricaded herself inside. The emergency lights had come on, bathing everything in soft, white shadows. Outside she could hear others trying to get in, but the door held. Eventually, she heard them attacking each other, and then silence, except for what sounded like an occasional munching sound.

6.30 a.m.

It was finally daylight. Amanda had slept fitfully, dreaming that she was being chased by hordes of undead creatures. Amanda had a quick breakfast of a candy bar and some orange soda from the lab's vending machine, then picked up her guns and carefully removed the table she'd used to block the door.

The corridor was silent. Bodies were everywhere. They all appeared partially eaten. Amanda held her nose and tried not to puke as she stepped over them. One of them unexpectedly tried to reach out and grab her ankle; she spun around and shot the person in the head. Then she moved on.

8.30 a.m.

Amanda was with a group of survivors. They were an unlikely combination; among the eight of them were a salesman who worked for Best Buy and a small-time thief and his very pregnant Russian wife. They were going to the mall, the salesman said.

Then they found themselves surrounded by a growing army of the things that had once been peoples' neighbors, friends, and relatives. "You go ahead," Amanda said. "I've got more ammo; I'll hold them off!"

The salesman looked at her. "Come on, man, let's move!" the young thief said. They left, along with the others, as Amanda distracted the creatures' attention and began firing. She'd lied-she was almost out of ammo, but she'd only slow them down. The mall was nearby; she was sure they'd make it. Amanda wished them luck as she raised the rifle again and fired.

THE END.


End file.
